Written for Round 9 at The Quidditch League Forum

Team: Kenmare Kestrels

Position: Captain

Prompt used: Hoop - Write about someone meeting a goal. (a quidditch player)

oOo

"Regulus has had a goal since he was a young boy and through to his death, he was determined to be a hero."

"Why, aren't you a sly one?"

"..."

"Quiet too. Where to put such a mind...perhaps with your brother?"

"... why?"

"It would seem you share the same recklessness as him. Gryffindors, honestly."

"I'd rather go in to Slytherin."

"Why? Oh, oh..."

"..."

"You know, usually it's the older ones that protect their younger siblings — not the other way around"

He is seventeen years old when he realizes that he might not be able to protect his older brother anymore.

Because he's going to accomplish a childhood dream.

A pathetic one, he'll admit.

Especially for a Slytherin.

The Black family has a tradition. A choice set of words that he understands and Sirius rebels against.

Conquer and win.

Regulus Black wonders when these words started to become forced and shoved down the throats of the descendants of the Black family.

Furthermore, when had he started to believe in those words?

He muses to himself. They had surrounded his childhood from a young age.

He believes in them, of course, but it was about time to add another word to the list for his descendants to learn.

Regulus concentrates and waves his wand with a gentle flick of his wrist. It's soft magic. The lightest pranking magic that can never be traced to him — but it slams the Slytherin jerk who just tried to hex his brother's back, into the wall. He smirks.

Potter and his gang are laughing their heads off while Sirius looks strangely bewilded at the turn of events.

Conquer and win. Protect.

Sirius is full of himself. Arrogant and foolhardy. At ten years old, Regulus can only think of him as a hero and a role-model. Sirius grins at Regulus and tells him, "Come into Gryffindor. I'll protect you from Mother."

Regulus stares at his older brother's bleeding lip and slumped shoulders. He looks defeated and tired — but he nods slowly in agreement with Sirius.

Why —

He thinks desperately — when you can't even protect yourself

"You want be on the inside of the danger with the others. With the darker Slytherins... so that means, you will follow your parent's and their wishes?"

"I want to be a hero," he says childishly.

"Ambitious goal to have. I wish you luck."

The Death Eater raid on Hogsmeade isn't exactly how Regulus expects it to go. He finds out that he hates the screams of people and the colours that spread out on the snowy white ground.

He freezes with a curse on the tip of his tongue and it fades into a bitter taste in his mouth.

Why are you here? He wants to ask miserably.

The cruel mask separates them and he knows that Sirius doesn't know who was just about kill him. Sirius would never expect him to be cursing people in Hogsmeade with this horrid mask on.

Sirius is staring at him hatefully from the ground, daring this strange Death Eater to kill him, daring Regulus to kill him. His wand has been tossed to the side with a simple disarming spell.

Regulus does the smart thing

He Disapparates.

Later he tries to convince himself that he was protecting Sirius.

Not running away.

Liar.

Regulus trails his fingers down the worn cover of the book that holds all of the answers. All of the answers to all the questions he never asked.

He wonders — why, did he decide to do this?

What made him think that he could protect his older brother? The Gryffindor one. The one blasted off of the family wall?

What had made him so foolish?

Horcrux, Horcrux, Horcux.

He taps a finger against the word repeatedly. This is was a chance that any Gryffindor on the light side would die for. This was a task that any Slytherin would plan for.

Regulus returns the book neatly in the place he found it and leaves the library. He passes his mother down the stairway and she gives him a proud look. Her nails scrape his cheek as she pats it affectionately. It only stings as he passes by Sirius's empty room.

Fear twists in his gut.

He only wants to plan, but some tiny voice that roars and scratches his mind tells him that — Regulus stares absently at Sirius's bedroom door — he realizes.

He's probably going to die.

"I would like to tell you something..."

"What?"

"You can be anything. You can choose the House that gives you power, you can choose what gives you warmth. Even beyond your Sorting. But you, child, must remember this."

Regulus listens very closely. Never has he heard of the Sorting Hat giving out advice.

" —you can always choose to be brave."

Splash

Regulus tries to breathe in desperate air. It's strangled and painful and — his lungs are burning.

Dimly, he feels proud and joyous that he has accomplished a childish goal that he believed in when he was eleven.

That had been his goal. His snitch. Regulus could see the fluttering of the golden orb floating in front of him. Hovering and fluttering. He reaches out his hand to grasp it — his heart constricts.

Then he feels nothing.

"I think it better be... SLYTHERIN!"

Regulus can feel disappointment in his brother's gaze, but he tells himself over and over again that he has a goal. He is going to be a hero and protect his family.

His tie magically changes to green and silver stripes instead of gold and red. He sits next to Lucius Malfoy instead of James Potter.

This was going to be a lonely seven years, he thinks. Regulus keeps his head down and focuses on the other Slytherins laughing around him.

And he convinces himself that he feels nothing.